


Pulling me towards myself

by Kyra



Category: Strangers With Candy
Genre: M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-24
Updated: 2007-02-24
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2300396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyra/pseuds/Kyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geoffrey thinks about Clair a lot. He's beginning to think he thinks about her more than Chuck does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulling me towards myself

**Author's Note:**

> Noblet = Stephen Colbert, Jellineck = Paul Dinello. They like to roleplay. Clair is Noblet's wife. Geoffrey is pronounced Joffrey. There's no such fucking thing as a twelfth level wizard king.

Geoffrey thinks about Clair a lot. He's beginning to think he thinks about her more than Chuck does.

"Who?" Chuck asks as they grill steaks on the hot plate at Geoffrey's apartment.

"Your wife?" Geoffrey asks, and Chuck sets down the A1 sauce hard.

**

These are the ways Clair has fictionally died this month alone: suicide, gas leak, made to walk the gangplank (Geoffrey was the cruel pirate captain who took Chuck as his cabin boy; he was rather impressed with his own finesse at the role. He's always thought he had a flair for the dramatic.), car accident, hyenas, car accident.

Geoffrey doesn't have a wife but sometimes she dies, too. When she does, Geoffrey tries to imagine her, since it seems only fair. Sometimes she has blond hair that's curly or black hair that's long, but she always seems to have brown, brown eyes that twinkle behind glasses.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Geoffrey says to Chuck's back, where he's leaning against one of the support rails underneath the bleachers.

"Yes, well," Chuck says. "One does what one can."

"Is there anything I can do?" asks Geoffrey. "Make a gelatin, perhaps?"

Chuck looks over his shoulder.

"No....," he says. "Well. There is one thing."

Geoffrey can practically feel his hands on Chuck's zipper, Chuck's hands frantic on Geoffrey's shirt buttons, when--

"Whatcha guys doing down there?" asks Jerri's voice from above them. Her face is upside down, squeezed in the gap between the bleacher seats and foot rests.

Chuck coughs loudly and straightens up from where he's still leaning.

"Inspecting," he says. "The bleachers. For safety." He pats the rail he was leaning on a few times, for good measure. It creaks alarmingly. "What do you think, Mr. Jellineck?" he says.

"Looks good to me, Mr. Noblet," Geoffrey says.

"What are you doing in here unsupervised, Jerri?" Chuck asks, and Jerri's upside down face blinks.

"Homework," she says innocently. "Isn't that right, Tamalas?"

When Geoffrey and Chuck come out from under the bleachers, Jerri's convinced Tammi to turn upside down and look underneath too, which Tammi really should have realized would make her skirt flip up. Jerri smacks her ass and laughs merrily when Tammi squeaks and sits up fast.

Chuck takes advantage of the distraction to nudge Geoffrey in the nipple and give him the wink that means they should check out the second floor supply closet.

**

Geoffrey knows a lot about Clair from looking around her house, when she's not there. She keeps the dishtowels in a drawer to the left of the sink, and she has a card stuck in her vanity mirror that says "I am looking at the only problem in my life today" and there are always three books with bookmarks on her bedtable.

"What's this about?" he says one night, picking up the top one as Chuck climbs into bed.

"What?" Chuck says. "How should I know?" Geoffrey puts it back down and picks at a ball of fuzz on the sleeve of his baby blue flannel pajamas. Clair is at her mother's for the weekend again, with Seamus. In the morning he'll have to help Chuck strip the bed and wash the sheets twice, with extra fabric softener.

It's okay, though, because Chuck says, "aren't you going to turn off that light?" and when Geoffrey looks over, he's taken his glasses off and is giving Geoffrey a predatory, myopic look.

**

"Hello," says Geoffrey pleasantly as Chuck walks into the classroom nobody ever uses because of that one grisly incident.

"Oh, hello," says Chuck.

"You must be the new guy," Geoffrey says, making a show of rearranging the erasers.

"Yes, yes, that's right."

"Well, welcome to Coney Island Community College," Geoffrey says. Chuck goes pale and swallows.

"Oh," he says a little shakily, then rallies. "Let me guess. You must be an art major."

"No, actually Sign Language," Geoffrey says pleasantly. He's seen Clare's diploma hanging in the guest bathroom.

Chuck kisses him hard, like he's trying to attack Geoffrey's face, while Geoffrey pulls Chuck's shirt out from where it's tucked securely into his pants.

"Later I'm thinking of going to visit my mother in Springfield," Geoffrey gasps, when he gets a chance.

"What the hell are you playing at, Geoffrey?" Chuck says, ferocious and close. His breath smells like peanut butter sandwich.

It's maybe the first time he's ever called Geoffrey by his real name when he's got his hand down Geoffrey's pants. It's nice enough that later Geoffrey looks up from his clay in art class to realize he's made an interlocking C and G.

"Gee see?" Jerri says, coming up beside him. She has clay in her hair. "What's that mean?"

"Uhmm," Geoffrey says, and thinks fast. "It stands for Good 'Culpting -- the European pronunciation of 'sculpting' of course -- which is what I hope you're all doing." He raises his voice so the whole class can hear, which is good, because then the bell rings. Perfect timing.

Geoffrey starts to wipe down one of the work benches but gets bored halfway through, and stares dreamily out the window where Principal Blackman is breaking up a perfectly harmless game of keep-away with that one boy's crutches.

Someone clears their throat in the doorway and when Geoffrey turns around, Chuck is leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed.

"How was class?" asks Geoffrey and Chuck waves dismissively.

"The usual. The Nina, the Pinta, the Santa Fe." Geoffrey nods in recognition. "I was wondering," he continues. "If maybe you wanted to go get cheeseburgers. Maybe a brewski."

Geoffrey beams.

"Make it a chocolate malted, and you've got a deal."


End file.
